


scenes from a broken marriage

by orphan_account



Category: Rocketman (2019)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 04:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: 1974: Elton and Bernie go to a record store; Reid tags along.





	scenes from a broken marriage

“Hey El -- oh, John.” Bernie frowned at the Scottish man in front of him. 

“Bernie,” John said and nodded. 

“Bernie!” Elton exclaimed, bouncing through the door after Reid. He grabbed Bernie’s arm to pull him into a quick hug and then he was moving past both of them, turning around to make sure they were still following, as the three of them made their way outside Elton’s mansion. 

Bernie looked between Elton and John. “I didn’t know John was coming with us,” he said, diplomatically. 

“Neither did I,” said Elton, cheekily, which earned him a disapproving glare from John, who tightened his mouth and adjusted his arms. 

“I have a busy schedule, darling,” he said stiffly. “You know this. And after your latest --”

It was like a storm had closed over Elton’s face. “Yes,” he said, abruptly, cutting John off. “I know, I know.” John stood there silently, letting Elton interrupt him, a smirk on his face. 

When Elton was done talking, he leaned in and lightly lifted a hand to brush invisible dust off Elton’s shoulder. “Now, now,” he said. “Let’s not be like this. You know how important my work is, darling. For you, for this company, for us.” 

Elton’s head drooped slightly towards John. “Yes,” he said in a softer voice. “I know.” 

“Good,” John said and took his hand off Elton’s shoulder. He lifted an eyebrow at Bernie. “Now, if we’re all ready to go?” 

“I -- yes,” Bernie said, and led the three of them out of the house. 

“We’ve got to make this quick, though,” John said. “Elton’s got some reporter coming over later for an interview.”

Bernie was surprised when Elton let the jibe go and even more surprised when he reached out to touch Reid’s wrist. Reid let him, at least until they got to the car. 

“We’re going out Elton.” Reid pulled away but spoke far more gently than Bernie had even known he could. “Later,” he added and that seemed to be enough for Elton, who smirked as he pulled his hands inside his jacket. 

With Reid spoken to and dealt with, Elton turned his attention to Bernie, a quick grin springing up on his face. 

“How’ve you been?” 

Well. He spent the last week on the couch. His back hurt. Maxine didn't talk to him directly anymore. “Good,” Bernie said, resisting the urge to glance over at John. “Really good.”

“And the wife?” Elton lifted his eyebrows. Brought them up and down a bit. 

“Oh,” Bernie said, waving a hand. “You know how it is.”

Elton’s laugh was sharp and long, like a overexcited puppy. “Suppose I do, don’t I,” he said, a little self deprecatingly and a little surprised. He beamed at Bernie after that and Bernie thought, well, all right. He could put up with John Reid for this. Long as he didn't have Elton sleeping on the couch. Though, he supposed, John wasn't one to risk an asset in such a careless manner. 

Of course, the second they stepped inside the record store, Elton was recognized because it was only a bloody record store. Reid stepped aside to deal with management, trailing his knuckles briefly against Elton’s coat sleeve and left Bernie and Elton alone. 

Bernie liked to wander around the record store, meandering his way around to the rock or country and western records. Elton went to new arrivals first and worked his way methodically through the store. He would gather dozens of records into his arms as he worked his way through the store. It looked ridiculous. 

“Surprised you can carry all those,” Bernie would tell him, and Elton would just grin back and agree. 

“Must be the tennis lessons,” he’d say. “They’ll make a real man of me yet.” And Bernie would laugh. 

This trip was no different. When John came back out from the backroom, Bernie and Elton were on opposite sides of the room, Elton feverishly looking through the stacks and Bernie with his hands in his pockets. John looked between the two of them, confused, uncomprehending, and then walked over to Elton. He stopped half a foot away, looking more awkward that Bernie could remember seeing John Reid look. 

Elton didn’t respond to John at first, still poking around through the stacks of records. Bernie didn’t think he even noticed John until he spun around to add his new finds to the growing pile of records in the floor of the shop.

“John!” Elton greeted him. 

“Elton,” John returned. He cast an eye around the store. “How’s the record shopping coming?” 

Elton followed John’s eyes around the store, blue and still wide open at the wonder of a record store. “Excellently,” he said, gesturing at the pile next to him. “We’ve got the American imports - Jerry Lee Lewis, Willie Nelson, Donna Summer, Lou Reed --”

“Dolly,” Bernie called out from across the store. 

“Right,” Elton agree enthusiastically, and continued rattling off names. Bernie wandered over, throwing out a few himself. John Reid watched him right up until Bernie was there, next to them, and Reid looked down at the floor and then back at Elton, who was looking at a record lying at the bottom of sales bin. 

“That one’s utter pap,” he said cheerfully, picking it up and putting on the stack. “Absolute rubbish.”

“Then why are you buying it?” Reid asked and Bernie snorted. Reid snapped up to glare at him. 

“It’s a bit impressive how rubbish it is,” Elton told him. “Besides, supporting fellow artists and all that. It’s not like I haven’t got the money.”

Reid pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything. Reid only liked to talk when he thought he would win. Bernie would see it, how Elton would do something loud and splashy and very gay and Reid would purse his lips and look away. He’d turn away and Elton would crumble, stumble over himself to make Reid talk again, would buy him expensive whiskey, or ties, or suits, would tell him anything he wanted to hear, would yell and scream and break things. Anything to get Reid to look back at him, even with that cold, calculating glare of his. 

Bernie hated being alone with Reid. It was like being given a once over by an adding machine. John Reid wasn’t exactly the invisible hand of the market, but Bernie sometimes wondered if maybe John wished he was. Hell, if anyone was horny for Adam Smith, it would be John Reid. 

But this time, Elton, eyes still caught flickering up and down the rows of bargain bin records fresh off the American presses and already tanking, didn’t even see Reid’s mouth pursed. 

Reid looked away. 

“Look,” Elton said, excitedly, hand flying out and plunging into the pile. He wiggled it around, jostling other, less deserving records out of his hands, before emerging triumphantly with a somewhat rough for the wear vinyl.

“Big Brother and the Holding Company,” Bernie read and that got John to turn around. 

“What --” he scoffed, “the record label?” 

Elton brushed past John, leaning in and smirking, too close for friends but not close enough for a good pap shot. They’d perfected the dance over the years. Elton put the record on his pile. “No, no,” he said, already distracted, “the album.”

“The album?” John mouthed at Bernie and Bernie lifted up his shoulders and shrugged. 

“Janis,” Elton said, grandiosely, like he knew her. “Her first.” He was speaking to them, technically, but his hands were thumping against record covers, solid and big beneath his hands, searching for the next big thing or the last hidden treasure. 

“Ah,” Bernie said. “I loved _Pearl_.” 

“I think she’s with Colombia now,” John said. 

Elton ignored them both, moving down the rows, a solitary, hunched figure. Almost against his will, Bernie found himself commiserating with John Reid. They shared a grin and a beat and together they turned in a strange sort of sync to watch Elton work. Bernie sometimes felt like he could watch Elton discover music forever.

About five minutes later, John Reid cleared his throat. "Elton," he said, after there was no response from the man. Elton hummed in acknowledgement without looking up. “Elton,” Reid said louder and Elton stopped and looked up. “We’re got to get going,” he said. 

Elton pouted. “We’ve barely been here half an hour. ‘Sides. Bernie doesn’t want to go yet, do you Bernie?” 

Reid glared at him. 

Bernie coughed. “Um, yeah, no,” he said. “I’m cool looking around a bit more.”

“Great!” said Elton. 

“Alright,” Reid concerned, “but soon. We’ve got to leave soon. You can -- we can leave soon, right?” Reid didn’t ask questions often. Usually, he said things and then things happened and people nodded and agreed or else he yelled and threw things and then they agreed. But this time’s Reid’s voice did that thing at the end where it lilted up and he shifted his weight back and forth, like he wasn’t sure what to do with his feet or where to put his hands. 

Elton didn’t respond to Reid’s question and Reid didn’t broach the subject again. Instead, he stood next to Bernie and watched him silently, calculatingly. it was over an hour before the left the store, having filled up almost the entire car with Elton’s new records. 

"We missed the reporter," was all John said when they all got back to the house. 

"I know," Elton said and wiggled his eyebrows a bit. "Maybe I can make it up to you?" 

John smirked, which Bernie was sure was some sort of acquiescence or agreement and the three of them drifted apart for the afternoon.  John Reid, Bernie knew, had a lot figured out. He even had a lot of Elton figured out. But Bernie figured that no one -- not even John Reid -- had anything on Elton when there was music around. It was just all the rest of the time that he was worried about. 

**Author's Note:**

> asklfjasld;fj can't believe i wrote this sorry to everyone based on the characters in the film not the real people obviously might write more might not lmk what you think and find me on tumblr @myothercarisalsoabentley


End file.
